Uncle Robinson

Chapter XVI

Uncle Robinson! This was the word of the day and the
honor of thinking of it belonged to Jack and Belle. From now on this
would be Flip's name. At first he hesitated to accept the name since he
did not wish to be the humble servant of the family. But he understood
that he would be neither master nor servant so he resigned himself.
Besides, had he never changed his name? He was called Pierre Fanthome in
Picard and Flip in America. Why should he not be Uncle Robinson on these
lands of the Pacific Ocean?

Harry Clifton slept until the next day. But while the engineer was
asleep, Uncle Robinson - or rather "Uncle" as his new nephews called him
more often - Uncle was uneasy about when the engineer would wake up. In
fact, the convalescent would ask for food and the question of soup would
become a "burning" one!

Uncle chatted about it with Mrs. Clifton.

"What do you want, Madam," he repeated to her. "Sooner or later we must
tell him about our situation. We recovered your husband and we will
recover the fire in due course. How, I have no idea but we will recover
it."

Mrs. Clifton shook her head in doubt and Uncle could not convince her
otherwise.

The next day, May 2nd, Harry Clifton felt much better when he woke up.
After embracing his wife and his children, after shaking Uncle Robinson's
hand, he said that he was starving.

"Good sir, good," Uncle quickly replied with joy. "What would you like us
to give you? Ask! Anything you want. We still have those fresh oysters."

"And you may say, Uncle, that they are excellent!" Harry Clifton said.

"We also have the coconut and its milk. It would be difficult to find a
better food for a weak stomach."

"I agree, Uncle, I agree. However, without being a doctor, I imagine that
a bit of well grilled venison would do me no harm."

"Is that what you think, sir," Uncle replied. "You must not be in a hurry
to start eating such substantial food. You are in the same situation as
those unfortunate castaways recovering from a shipwreck, dying of thirst
and hunger. Do you think they should satisfy their appetite all at once?"

"Immediately, no" Clifton replied, "but the next day they should not
restrain themselves, I suppose..."

"Sometimes, sir, sometimes," Flip said with assurance, "that should be
eight days! Yes, Mr. Clifton, a full eight days. In 1855 I was
shipwrecked. I had the good luck to save myself with a raft. Well, I
wanted to eat quickly. I was dying of hunger. My stomach was..."

"Excellent?" Clifton asked.

"Excellent, I agree," Flip replied, "but in the end it took a turn for
the worse."

It was hard not to smile at Uncle Robinson's logic.

"Well, Uncle," the engineer said, "I suppose I must still endure for
today the diet you are prescribing for me. You will not be
inconvenienced, I guess, if I have some warm soup?"

"Warm soup," Uncle Robinson shouted, leaning against the wall, "warm
soup! Perfect, sir. As you wish! A broth, for example!"

"Yes."

"Good, well then, Mister Robert and I, we will go to thrash about the
forest and kill a broth for you, a broth of the best quality, with large
eyes like those of Mademoiselle Belle. Is that agreed?"

This morning, Harry Clifton was satisfied with some edible weeds, oysters
and coconuts. Then Robert and Uncle Robinson went to the warren and
brought back two rabbits captured with collars. Uncle showed the engineer
the result of his hunt and they agreed that a warm rabbit boullion would
help his recovery.

The children then occupied themselves gathering the fruits that formed
their principal nourishment. Mrs. Clifton and Belle washed what little
linen the colony had. All this while Uncle Robinson sat near the
engineer's bed, talking with him.

Harry Clifton asked Uncle if he had ever thought about whether wild
beasts roamed this part of the land. This could be a danger for people
without defensive arms. Uncle had not dared to bring up this subject but
he mentioned the footprints in the sand he saw during his first visit to
the grotto three weeks earlier.

The engineer listened attentively. He suggested that they build a fence
as soon as possible to protect the entrance to the grotto. He recommended
that Uncle keep large fires burning during the night because wild beasts
hardly ever cross a burning barrier.

Uncle Robinson promised he would not fail to do this adding that there
would never be a lack of wood and that the colony possessed an
inexhaustible supply.

The engineer then asked about the food supply and if there was any fear
of a famine.

Uncle did not have to think about that. The fruits, eggs, fish and
mollusks were there in abundance and their supply could easily be renewed
once fishing lines and hunting tools were perfected.

Clifton then brought up the question of clothing. The children were rough
on their clothes. How could they replace them?

Uncle Robinson asked that they divide the clothing question into two
parts. They could do little about the underwear. As to the outerwear,
that was another matter and they would look to the animals to solve that.

"You realize, Mr. Clifton, that while avoiding a visit from ferocious
beasts, we can still profit from them by borrowing their fur."

"But they will not give them to us unless we beg them to do so."

"Then we will beg them to do so, sir, but do not be uneasy about that.
First get better and everything will be fine."

During the day, Jack distinguished himself with a master stroke. With a
coconut fiber and a piece of cloth he made a clever fishing line for
catching frogs from the weeds of the lake. These batracians belong to a
species improperly named brown toads; in reality they are and excellent
to eat. Their light white meat contains much gelatin. What bouillon could
be made for Harry Clifton! They could not make use of Jack's catch but
Uncle Robinson praised him none the less for his skills.

The next day, Friday, after a rather fine night, the engineer felt much
better. His wound had healed rapidly. However, on the advice of Uncle and
Mrs. Clifton, he agreed to stay rested the entire day. He would take a
walk in the neighborhood of the grotto the next day.

Uncle, with a stubbornness hard to explain, still avoided the question of
the fire. But why? Sooner or later he would have to acknowledge it.
Eventually Harry Clifton would find out. Didn't he deserve to be told
about it? If his wife and his children were able to endure these
troubles, couldn't he also endure them? Did Uncle Robinson hope that by
some chance he could get a fire going again? No, but he could not make up
his mind to speak about it. Mrs. Clifton herself urged him to remain
silent. The dear wife, seeing that her husband was still weak, hesitated
to cause him additional pain.

Be it as it may, Uncle Robinson no longer knew how to avoid Harry
Clifton's requests. It was evident that when he would bring him his usual
oysters and coconuts, Clifton would ask for the bouillon he was promised.
Uncle did not know what to do.

Very fortunately, a change in weather saved him from the embarrassment.
It was cloudy during the night and toward morning they had a violent
rainstorm. Trees bent under the wind and the sand on the shore flew about
like hail.

"Ah! This is a good rain, a good rain," Uncle shouted.

"This is a bad rain!" Marc said to him, since he had planned on going to
the shore for some oysters.

"Very good, I tell you Mr. Marc. This will save us!"

Marc could not understand why Uncle was so happy but he got his
explanation when he entered the grotto. He heard Uncle speaking to Mr.
Clifton in a frustrated tone of voice.

"Ah! Mr. engineer, what weather, what wind, what rain. It wasn't possible
to keep our fire lit. It was extinguished."

"Well, my friend," Clifton replied, "that is not a big misfortune. We
will light it again when the storm is over."

"No doubt, sir, no doubt, we will light it again and this does not
trouble me. This setback distresses me for your sake."

"For me?" the engineer replied.

"Yes! I was about to make you an excellent frog bouillon when all my
cinders blew away."

"I can do without the bouillon."

"It is all my fault," said Uncle, exaggerating his white lie. It is my
fault. Why didn't I make that unfortunate bouillon while I still had my
fire? What a beautiful fire it was! Then you would have had this
excellent beverage so good for your health."

"Don't be sad, Uncle Robinson. I can wait for another day. But how will
my wife and children prepare their meals?"

"Well, sir. Don't we have our reserve of biscuit and salted meat?"

The reserve! The worthy sailor knew only too well that Mrs. Clifton had
given him the last piece of meat when he went on his last excursion along
the north shore.

"You realize, Uncle," Harry Clifton then said to him, "that we must find
another place to install our fire. We cannot leave it where every gust of
wind can blow it out."

"Agreed, Mr. Clifton. But how can we drill a chimney through this thick
wall of granite? I have examined the surface. Not a hole or a crack
anywhere. Take my word for it. Some day we will build a house, a real
house!"

"A stone house?"

"No, a wooden house, a house with beams and girders. Now that we have
your hatchet, this will not be difficult. You will see how yours truly
handles this tool. I worked for six months in Buffalo as a carpenter."

"Good, my friend," the engineer replied. "we will watch you do your
thing. I only ask to work under your direction."

"You! An engineer!" Uncle Robinson shouted. "But the plans. Who will
prepare the plans if not you? We must have a comfortable home with
windows, doors, rooms, salons, chimneys, chimneys everywhere! Don't
forget the chimneys! And what a pleasure it will be to return from a long
trip to see a blue smoke rising to the sky and to say to oneself that
there is a nice warm fire waiting for us down there with good friends
ready to feast us."

In speaking like this, the tireless sailor gave the entire family hope
and courage. It rained into the night. It was impossible to venture
outside. But there was work for everyone inside the grotto. Uncle
Robinson finished a set of bamboo cups using the saw from Harry Clifton's
knife. He even made some plates more useful than the shells they were
using until this time. He also made a knife for himself, or at least he
rounded off the rough edges of what had remained of his blade, rubbing it
on a stone. The children, in turn, were not idle. They prepared the
coconuts and the pine kernels. A few pints of fermented coconut milk were
placed inside gourds. This would turn into an alcoholic liqueur. For his
part, Robert cleaned his father's pistol which was rusted over with the
salty water. He expected that it would come in handy. Mrs. Clifton washed
her children's clothes.

The next day, Saturday May 3rd, the sky was serene again, promising a
magnificent day. The wind had passed away to the northeast, and the sun
was shining with a brilliance. Harry Clifton was again in a hurry to
leave and explore the neighborhood. He wanted to bathe in the sun
expecting it to give him a complete return to health. He therefore asked
Uncle if he could lean on his arms. Having no plausible reason for
refusing, Uncle resigned himself. He offered his arms and left the grotto
as if he was the victim of a torture march.

First Harry Clifton gave a deep sigh of satisfaction. The air was fresh
and invigorating. He inhaled it as if it was a tonic. He had never felt
so warm! He looked at the sparkling sea. He saw the islet, the narrow
channel, the meandering of the coastline and the natural harbor. Then he
made an about face. He saw the first level of the cliff with its verdant
curtain of trees and the luxurious prairie, the blue lake framed in a
thick border of forests and the high peak overlooking this ensemble. This
beautiful scenery pleased him. He foresaw good things from this charming
country. The engineer hatched up twenty projects that he wanted to
execute without delay.

Harry Clifton, sometimes leaning on his wife's arms, sometimes on those
of Uncle Robinson, returned to the grotto. He examined the cliff and
reached the location where the blackened rock indicated that this was the
place where the fire had been burning.

"Was the fire here?" he asked. "Of course. Now I understand how the
eddies of wind whirling around the cliff easily put out the fire. We will
look for a better place. Come children, Marc and Robert. Bring one or two
armfuls of dry wood. There must be no lack of fuel. Let's make a
beautiful fire."

On hearing these words, everyone stared at the father without a word.
Uncle lowered his eyes. He had a guilty look.

"Well, children?" Harry Clifton repeated. "Did you hear me?"

Someone had to speak up. Mrs. Clifton realized that it was her place to
do so.

"My friend," she said, taking her husband's hand. "I have a confession to
make."

"Which is, my dear Elisa?"

"Harry," Mrs. Clifton said in a solemn voice, "we have no fire."

"No fire!" Clifton shouted.

"And no way to light one!"

Harry Clifton seated himself at the edge of a rock without saying a word.
Mrs. Clifton told him about what had happened after they landed, the
incident of the single match, how the fire was carried up to the grotto,
and under what conditions, in spite of the surveillance, it had been
blown out by the windstorm. The mother did not mention Marc but he came
over to Harry Clifton.

"And it happened while I was watching it," he said.

Clifton took Marc's hand and pressed it to his chest.

"Don't you even have a little piece of amadou?" he asked him.

"No, my friend," Mrs. Clifton replied.

Uncle then intervened.

"But all hope is not lost!" he said. "Isn't it possible that we could
find a way to make a fire. Do you know what I am counting on, Mister
Clifton?"

"No, my friend."

"On nature, sir, on nature itself to give it back to us one day."

"And how?"

"With a thunderbolt! A tree set afire and our hearth will be back."

"Yes," the engineer replied. "Waiting for your fire from a thunderbolt is
very problematic and it will always be at the mercy of the first squall.
But have you tried to get a fire by rubbing two pieces of wood?"

"Yes," said Robert, "but we were not successful."

"If we only had a lens!" Marc added.

"Perhaps we could replace the lens," Harry Clifton said, "with the glass
from two watches with water introduced between them."

"Quite right, Mr. Clifton," Uncle said. "But if you have a watch, we
don't have any."

"Or perhaps," Clifton said, "we could bring water to the boiling point by
imparting a rapid movement to it in a closed vase!"

"An excellent way to make a broth but not a roast. You see, Mr. Clifton,
all these means are not practical and my only hope is to find some
mushroom species to replace the amadou."

"But burnt linen can serve as amadou."

"I know that," Flip replied, "but I say to Mr. Clifton that to get burnt
linen we first need to have a fire and to have a fire..."

"We need something easier than all that!" Clifton replied.

"Which is?" Uncle Robinson shouted, opening his eyes wide.

"That we use the amadou I have in my pocket!" Clifton replied with a
smile.

The children shouted hurrah! Uncle screamed. Would this man that nothing
could surprise go mad. He danced a jig better than any Scotsman. Then,
taking Belle and Jack by the hand, he danced round about with them, while
singing: